


Lending Pencils

by MeganWrites



Series: Alternate Universe [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganWrites/pseuds/MeganWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is just trying to survive his first University math class, Mickey sits behind him and can never remember a pencil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lending Pencils

**Author's Note:**

> I have nearly 13 AU ideas I have been trying to write for AU August, but I am terrible at keeping up with my writing so... here is at least one of them! Hopefully I can write some of the other ones before the end of the month... and also work on that multi-chapter I have going.
> 
> Ugh. Writing is hard.

The top five things Ian Gallagher hates are probably bipolar disorder, his parents, rich kids, the noise the L makes when it's stopping, and math. He swears Pythagoras, Archimedes, or whoever the fuck invented math was doing it just to piss him off thousands of years later.

Ian's sure he's going to fail this class. He's already been lucky enough to be accepted into the University of Chicago and he's sure that his luck has run out with that. Ian's so nervous he spent every day of the summer dreading the minutes between 10:30 and 11:20 on every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

Ian's tapping his fingers nervously on his desk waiting for the first class to begin. He's brought four pencils, one industrial size eraser, two pens, a 500-page notebook, and the thick textbook that had been assigned to the class. He's prepared in every way possible, but his hands are still sweating and he can't seem to stop himself from constantly fidgeting.

Fucking math is the fucking worst.

He feels a rough tap on his shoulder, fingers poking into his skin and making him wonder if someone is trying to use the Vulcan Nerve Pinch on him. Ian turns around and is met with dark hair and blue eyes on a gorgeous boy with FUCK U-UP tattooed across his knuckles.

"Aye, wanna lend me a pencil? Forgot mine."  The boy has a heavy Chicago accent that reminds Ian of his neighborhood. He nods quickly and passes the boy a pencil, before turning back to face the front of the classroom. As if he needed more of a reason to be nervous in this class.

 

 

-

 

 

The boys name is Mickey Milkovich.

After their first meeting, Ian takes it upon himself to figure out more about Mickey. Mickey's from a poor family, somewhere in Canaryville too, and somehow managed to score a full scholarship to the University. He lives on campus and is the best hook up if you're looking to score some blow. He mostly keeps to himself, and doesn't go to any of the parties unless he's dealing.

He's also kind of an asshole, and the worst person to sit near in class.

Mickey spends most of class ignoring the Professor in favor of his phone. He's always late, then constantly texting and browsing the internet; snorting at every funny picture or quote he comes across. He rarely does any homework and never pays attention, yet somehow is still getting A's on all of his tests. It infuriates Ian to no end.

But the most annoying thing about Mickey fucking Milkovich is that he never remembers to bring a pencil.

Mickey strolls into class, at least ten minutes after the class has begun, sits down behind Ian, then a couple minutes later kicks his chair and asks for a pencil. Except he doesn't ask anymore, instead he waits for Ian to turn around and puts out his hand saying; "Gallagher, pencil," as if it's something Ian is just expected to do now.

Ian spends most days planning how he's going to tell Mickey to go fuck himself, but when class comes around finds he can’t help being captivated by Mickey's blue eyes and wordlessly hands over a pencil each time.

 

 

-

 

 

Ian had really studied, and that's what makes this D so upsetting. He had tried his best, but his best wasn't good enough - the story of his life it seems. He thinks about putting his head on his desk and lying like that until he eventually dies of shame and starvation.

"You're not too good at math Gallagher." Mickey's smooth and arrogant voice interrupts his thoughts.

Ian whips around in his seat; Mickey is leaned forward and peaking at the large red letter on Ian's test. "No, I'm not fucking good at math!" Ian snaps at the brunet and fixes him with his best glare.

Mickey seems completely unfazed by Ian's tone and leans back casually, "I'm pretty good at math - I could tutor you."

Ian frowns and scoffs. He might be overreacting, but the combination of a failing grade and Mickey's entitled attitude over the past few weeks has finally gotten to him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You are the last person I would ever get to tutor me; you don't even bring anything to class! You're probably just buying the answers of some kid, or cheating, or something because there is no fucking way you are smarter than me."

Mickey's gaze darkens and his lips are pressed into a tight line. He looks pissed off, and Ian considers briefly that he might have gone too far. "Yeah, alright tough guy," Mickey hisses and shoves all of his papers into his bag. "At least whatever I'm doing gets me fuckin' A's." He stands up and starts to walk away but pauses, pressing a hand to his lips for a short second before speaking lowly. "You know, here I was thinking I could pay you back for all the fuckin' pencils I keep taking from you, but fuck me right."

He sneers at Ian and turns, storming out of the classroom and leaving Ian to consider that he might actually be the asshole instead.

 

 

-

 

 

Mickey starts showing up on time, starts sitting behind someone else, starts bringing his own pencil, and starts ignoring Ian.

Considering the thugs reputation Ian had been sure when Mickey stormed off that the results would disastrous, so the first day Ian is pretty smug about the turn out. He's proud that his outburst the day before has actually had a positive impact on his life. He sits through the lecture with no glaring laughs, kicking on his chair, or obnoxious snorts to interrupt his thoughts. This unfortunately means Ian has more time to focus on the lessons that he can't understand, causing him to feel more nervous and anxious than he's been since before the semester began.

He thinks Mickey had been on the right track with the whole tutor thing and decides to look into it. As it turns out, tutors are expensive and Ian doesn't have very much money. He's barely scraping by with all of his present expenses, living off his student loans and six hours of work a week at his part-time job doesn't pay well.

But Ian cannot fail this class, so he reluctantly accepts that maybe he needs Mickey's help.

And maybe he misses Mickey - just a little.

Mickey had been annoying, but it was a comfortable annoying. Ian had gotten used to the little ticks and bothersome traits without even realizing he was doing it, and now that Mickey has shuffled off to the other side of the classroom, Ian misses those little things.

He tries for a few days in class to catch Mickey's attention without any success. He even comes to class early, taking the seat beside what is now Mickey's regular seat only to watch Mickey walk in, grimace, and find a seat across the class from him.

Finally Ian sucks it up, figures out his dorm number and trudges upstairs to knock on Mickey's door.

He hears a muffled, "one fuckin' second," before the door swings open and Mickey is standing in front of him. He's wearing an old pair of sweatpants, a slightly stained shirt, his hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly puffy as though he just woke from a nap.

"Um..." Ian tries to speak but finds that all the words he'd planned on saying are lost to the sudden sharp reminder of how fucking gorgeous Mickey really is.

"The fuck you want?" Mickey snaps.

Ian swallows and reorganizes his thoughts, "I'm an idiot, you're really smart and I need your help."

Mickey's face softens, his eyes widening slightly and bites at his lower lip. "You're not an idiot, Gallagher, just a fuckin' dick."

Ian can't help the small smile spreading on his lips, "yeah, I am."

Mickey shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. "So you want me to tutor you then?"

Ian scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "Would you?"

"Yeah, come on," Mickey steps back and motions for Ian to come into his dorm room. Closing the door and grinning he says, "So I don't actually have a textbook, you brought one right?"

Ian rolls his eyes and chuckles because it's just so typical, except this time he doesn't so much mind it.

 

 

-

 

 

The worst part of being tutored by Mickey is that it is impossible to not have a crush on him. Ian's pretty sure it's his entire life purpose just to meet and fall for Mickey because nothing else has ever felt this right.

Mickey's probably not what everyone would consider the 'perfect guy'. He's a little rough around the edges but Ian likes him that way. He likes that Mickey doesn't bother dressing up and there's dirt caked into his nails, he likes the constant swears, crude jokes and twisted sense of humor.

Ian also likes the other side to Mickey - the softer side. He likes when Mickey will sit close and listen intently to everything Ian says, that he always prefers to share one cigarette with Ian instead of lighting two, that Mickey makes him feel smart, funny, and important.

It's phenomenal that Mickey, the annoying guy who couldn't bring his own damn pencil, makes him feel so much. It's also unfortunate because now Ian is left to spend every day pining after him and wishing for a relationship that will never happen.

It's really the worst situation, or maybe the best situation. He can't make up his mind.

The only part of the whole tutoring experience that isn't getting more and more confusing is the actual math.

Ian grins at the test sitting on his desk with a bright red C+ in the corner. It's not a perfect mark, or the grade that Ian wants, but it's an improvement and that's enough to make Ian smile.

"How'd you do?" Mickey's leaning forward in his desk, having taken back his regular spot behind Ian in the classroom the day after Ian apologized.

Ian turns around lifting his paper to show Mickey the improvement. "Better," Ian answers, trying to hide his excitement over his mediocre grade when he can clearly see the A on Mickey's test.

"That's fuckin' awesome!" Mickey is grinning widely, looking so ecstatic and beautiful. Ian's heart flutters for a moment as he realizes that he's the reason Mickey looks like that. 

Ian shrugs and smiles at Mickey in return, he grabs his backpack from beside his seat, slinging it on his back and following the crowd of students walking out. "Yeah, it's okay," Ian mutters as Mickey catches up to walk down the hall beside him.

"You kidding? It's only been a few weeks and you went up a whole fuckin' letter grade," Mickey answers and shoves Ian lightly. "Stop shitting on yourself, Gallagher."

Ian looks down at Mickey; he's got that soft look again. His eyes are just a bit wider and his lips naturally turned into a smile, and he's looking at Ian like he's amazing.

"Yeah," Ian says a big wide smile blossoming. "It's pretty fucking great."

Mickey snorts and waves his hand as he speeds up to the nearby student patio. "C'mon, let's celebrate."

Ian doesn't even hesitate, he would follow Mickey anywhere.

 

 

-

 

 

"How'd you do on the assignment?" Mickey asks while chewing on a snickers bar so his words come out slightly muffled.

Ian frowns, "C again."

He's lying; it's really his third A of the semester and Ian's pretty proud of himself for it. He went from barely surviving his classes to getting compliments from his professor and getting one of the higher grades on each assignment and test. His tutoring had paid off, the way Mickey explains things making it all so much simpler, but he's at a point now that he probably doesn't need any more tutoring and he really doesn't like that.

Because he really doesn't want to lose Mickey.

He's sure they'll stay friends – that’s not the problem. They hang out when they’re not studying but it's never as intimate and Ian knows that once it's gone he's going to be craving that closeness more than anything else.

So he's resolved to let Mickey believe he's still miserable at math and continue their tutoring sessions, while diligently ignoring the fact that the semester ends in a month.

Mickey nods and shrugs, "not bad. What was tripping you up?"

"Everything," Ian answers sheepishly, lying through his teeth and praying Mickey doesn't notice.

Mickey shuffles his seat closer to Ian's, their arms are brushing and Mickey is leaning even closer to take a look at the textbook. He reaches forward and begins flipping through pages until he finds the topic of the assignment. "Aight," Mickey begins and turns his head to look at Ian and freezes.

Ian has been sitting back as Mickey's moved practically across his lap to set up the textbook. Mickey's arm is still pressed against his, and when Mickey looks up they're only a breath apart. Ian's heart is hammering in his chest; he can feel Mickey's breath on his lips and wonders what it would feel like to close the gap between them.

Mickey's eyes are glued to Ian's until their not and the brunets eyes drift down to Ian's lips. They linger there for a moment too long and Ian's about to just say 'fuck it' and kiss him, but Mickey is drawing back quickly clearing his throat and gnawing on his lower lip.

"So, what was fucking you up?"

 _You are,_ Ian so desperately wants to say. Instead he manages to breathe out, "you asked that already."

Mickey nods quickly and coughs, "yeah, uh, let's just go over number four."

Mickey's staring at the page intently, keeping his gaze away from Ian and glued to the paper as Ian begins to write out the equation. Ian can't help glancing at Mickey, notices the little smile on Mickey's lips and how their arms are still pressed against each other.

 

 

-

 

 

Studying for finals is one of the most stressful experiences of Ian's life; it's a kind of fear that seems unfamiliar when in actuality it's just once again the fear that he isn't good enough. He's so close to passing this class, the only thing between him and the feeling of accomplishment and pride is one massive fucking test.

Fucking math and fucking University.

The upside is that extra studying means extra Mickey.

Mickey's sitting next to him in the library; he's going over the group of questions Ian answered and adding his corrections as he goes. Ian's trying not to stare but finding it nearly impossible. Since the moment in these seats a month earlier Ian hasn't been able to even pretend he thinks of Mickey as just a friend. It's not all just in his head either; there have been lingering looks and touches that Ian's almost positive mean something.

And there is nothing platonic about the way Mickey will sometimes scan the length of his body, running his tongue over his lower lip like Ian is something he wants to devour.

So, Ian is almost positive that there is more to their relationship, but he isn't ready to risk it. Mickey is the closest friend Ian has had that isn't related to him and he can't lose that on a hunch, never-mind the fact that Mickey is from around Canaryville and Ian knows how many fag-bashings go on around there.

"Pen's dying; grab a new one from my bag." Mickey comments without looking up from the page, his brow is furrowing in concentration and Ian has to suppress a smile at how adorable he looks.

Ian pulls Mickey's bag onto his lap from the chair next to him. It's just a simple shoulder bag, made of a cheap brown fabric that has two buckles to hold it closed; it's in complete contrast with Ian's industrial sized backpack with four different pockets. When they walk down the halls of the University Mickey is usually making fun of Ian for looking like, in his words, a fucking ten year old.

Ian lifts the flap and pushes some notebooks aside looking for the pen until his eyes settle on the bottom of the bag. Clumped together are a group of pencils, all in near perfect condition and all of them the cheap off-brand that Ian bought at the beginning of the semester. They're the pencils he gave Mickey.

Ian looks up from the bag and can't resist the wide grin spreading across his face.

Mickey looks up and frowns, "the fuck Gallagher?"

"My pencils," Ian says, feeling like his voice is probably sounding so dreamy and dumb but he doesn't really care.

"The shitty ones you always gave me?" Mickey's frown deepens.

Ian nods and pulls a couple out, "you had them in your bag."

There's a tinge of pink blooming on Mickey's cheeks as he ducks his head and shrugs without saying a word.

"You asked me every fucking day for a pencil, and you had them all with you in your bag the whole time." Ian lets out a soft laugh and puts the bag down beside him. "Why?"

Mickey shrugs again, his head still ducked down as he mutters, "fuck off."

"C'mon Mick, please?"

There's a long moment of silence, or maybes it's short, but to Ian it feels like a century just waiting for Mickey to say something. Mickey finally looks up, the blush on his cheeks having faded but the nervousness is still clear on his face.

"Needed a reason to talk to you," his words are barely audible but there's an intensity in Mickey's eyes that Ian's never seen before.

"Why?"

"Don't be fuckin' stupid, you know why."

Ian could feel his heartbeat vibrating through his entire body. "I thought you weren't..." Ian fumbles over his words; he is still nervous to say them but feeling like he can't not anymore. "Aren't you straight?"

Mickey smirks and leans forward, his arrogant attitude flooding back at Ian's flushed and anxious reaction. His voice is sinfully low when he speaks, "meet me in the stacks." He gets up and saunters off between two of the shelves without bothering to look back.

Ian realizes he is either going to be beat up for insinuating that Mickey is gay, or he is about to have the most anticipated make out of his life. Not even a second passes before Ian is standing and tripping over his feet as he rushes to the stacks.

Any beating would be worth the chance.

 

 

-

 

 

It's not a beating.

The only thing that could possibly be better than kissing Mickey is fucking him. Touching him, hearing him, tasting him all at once - it's like a drug that Ian didn't even know he was addicted to.

And he is addicted, so completely and utterly addicted to everything Mickey.

Ian would have given Mickey every pencil in the world if he knew it would end like this.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :)](http://meganwwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
